


i am a lion

by alicialeila



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Dreams, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Schmoop, Touch-Starved Mikoto, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicialeila/pseuds/alicialeila
Summary: "He probably would have been happier if he'd been born a lion in a wide savanna somewhere.""He's like a wild animal trainer."





	i am a lion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vassbutt1991](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vassbutt1991/gifts).



> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Mikoto was lying in a soft patch of dry grass, yawning lazily as the sun warmed the whole of his body. He stretched his long limbs before settling into the grass once again.

Blue skies stretched for miles. The picturesque landscape was dotted with green grass and tries. Cicadas sounded in a low buzz. It was a perfect day.

Distantly, he heard a voice calling to him. 

“King!”

Slowly, Mikoto lifted his head towards the source of the sound. Totsuka approached him with a smile. Mikoto laid his head back down, too sleepy and comfortable to bother with anything else.

“Are you enjoying the sunshine, King?” Totsuka asked as he bent down to crouch beside Mikoto. Mikoto yawned again, as if in response, and Totsuka chuckled. “Ah, so lazy,” Totsuka said. His voice was soft and sweet as it usually was when he spoke to Mikoto, though he could be stern when he needed to.

Totsuka moved his hand to gently pat Mikoto’s head a few times before he started petting in earnest, running his fingers through Mikoto’s thick red mane. He scratched lightly behind Mikoto’s ears, under his chin. Mikoto purred at the contact, his eyes drooping as he dozed.

Totsuka chuckled as he worked his hands down to Mikoto’s flank. “You’re a good boy,” he murmured, his hands rubbing Mikoto’s belly gently. Content, Mikoto’s tail swayed at the pleasure of Totsuka’s touch. 

When Totsuka finally pulled away, Mikoto stretched up languidly and nuzzled his large nose into Totsuka’s cheek.

“King!” Totsuka laughed, and the sound of his laughter was as warm as the sun on Mikoto’s fur.

_“King!”_

_“King…”_

Mikoto jerked awake and blinked his eyes a few times, mind still groggy with sleep. He was on the couch in bar HOMRA, sitting next to Anna. Totsuka was standing in front of him, smiling cheerfully. His hand rested on Mikoto’s shoulder, clearly having just shaken Mikoto awake.

“King?” Totsuka asked, voice gentle. “Kusanagi-san was calling for you.”

Mikoto grunted in response. He eyed Totsuka’s hand as he pulled it away. The loss of warmth was familiar, and memories of the dream Totsuka had just interrupted flickered into his consciousness. _What the…_

Frowning, he glanced down at Anna, who was watching him. She wasn’t smiling, because Anna rarely smiled, or at least not like a normal kid her age, but amusement twinkled in her eyes.

He knew from previous experiences that Anna was able to connect with him enough to see into his dreams. He hadn’t seen her, though, so why was she looking at him like that?

“Mikoto’s red is calm,” she said quietly, no teasing or judgment in her voice. “It’s happy.”

“Shut up,” Mikoto grumbled. He looked away, his eyes settling naturally on where Totsuka was laughing, surrounded by the other members of Homra.

Kusanagi sat on the arm of the couch beside Mikoto. He pulled out a cigarette from his pack, lit it with a flick of his finger, and stuck it between his lips. He offered the package to Mikoto, who picked out a cigarette, too. They smoked in silence for a moment, watching as an angry Yata gestured wildly at Kamomoto. For all that they were partners, those two sure argued a lot.

Totsuka put a hand on Yata’s shoulder and murmured something to him with a kind smile. Yata looked away, bashful, almost in a pout.

“There he goes,” Kusanagi laughed. “Our very own lion-tamer.”

Mikoto tsked at Kusanagi’s choice of words.

“What?” Kusanagi asked, eyes peering at Mikoto curiously.

Mikoto frowned. There was no way Kusanagi could have known he’d accidentally touched a kind of sore spot. Or a weird spot. But still.

“Come on,” Kusanagi said, slapping Mikoto on the knee. “I need your help moving some boxes.”

Mikoto sighed deeply, but he followed.

 

Later, Mikoto sat at the bar, empty glass in front of him, finishing his last cigarette of the night. Anna had long gone upstairs to bed; the bar had emptied of customers; the guys, including Kusanagi, had already gone home. He watched Totsuka, who was tinkering with glasses behind the bar. After he was done cleaning, he, too, would be gone for the night.

Mikoto rather liked this time of night. The bar was mostly dark, except for the dim light directly above his seat. It was quiet; even Totsuka tended to be more relaxed at this hour.

“I’m all done for the night,” Totsuka said, coming out from behind the bar. He pressed in close to Mikoto’s back, hugging him tightly, arms winding around his waist. His nose touched Mikoto’s neck, just under his ear. “Good night, King,” he murmured, and Mikoto could feel his lips move against his skin. 

Mikoto let Totsuka’s warmth wash over him; it was, for once, a heat that wasn’t painful or destructive or oppressive. He grabbed Totsuka’s wrist and turned his chair so that they were standing face to face. His other hand held Totsuka’s chin so he could lean in for a kiss.

This, too, was a perk of the late hour.

Totsuka twined their fingers together, and his other hand came up to cup Mikoto’s cheek. As they kissed, his hand slid from Mikoto’s face, to the nape of his neck, to his chest. It was relaxed and comfortable, and yet, it managed to stir something within Mikoto. Mikoto let his own hand slid down Totsuka’s body, resting it on his hip. Playing with the hem of Totsuka’s shirt, Mikoto’s fingers brushed Totsuka’s bare skin. 

As with most everything, Totsuka stopped them before they got too carried away. He pulled back, his cheeks dusted pink. His smile was warm and his gaze tender. Mikoto still didn’t understand how he was allowed to have this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Totsuka said, eyes shining bright, as they always did when he looked at Mikoto. Wordlessly, Mikoto watched him walk out into the night.

For a few minutes, Mikoto sat alone at the bar, trying to hold onto the stillness of the moment. Sometimes, the weight of who he was, who he had to be, was a cage, and he longed to be free of it.

Nights like these, though, he remembered why he wouldn’t give up this feeling, this place, not for anything.

 


End file.
